Chapter Two #2
“He is. He’s also a shameless flirt and a wicked charmer with a reputation for following through with every salacious comment he makes.
Half the women around this town are crazy about him, but he is one of the good guys.
All of the Dark Knights are. My heart broke when I heard about Zander’s accident. ”
The way Zander’s pleading eyes had seared into Shauna’s mind made it easy to believe that under different circumstances, they held more dangerous powers. “I’ll throw a little extra luck out there for him. Is it okay if I put this in his room?” She held up his cut.
“Sure.”
Teri gave her his room number, and Shauna headed down the hall.
When she stepped into Zander’s room, a dull ache formed in her chest. He lay motionless beneath stark-white sheets.
A ventilator tube protruded from his mouth, and another ran from his chest tube to a ventilator on the floor.
An IV snaked up to a bag hanging beside the bed, and wires connected him to various monitors.
The steady beeping of the monitors and the rhythmic knocks and whooshes of the ventilator underscored the severity of his situation.
She made her way closer, taking in his chiseled, scruff-covered jaw and angular nose.
He had the kind of dark brows that drew attention to the blue eyes she couldn’t see behind his closed lids, but she recalled them clear as day in her mind.
His hair was longish on top, thick dark waves brushed away from the bandage on his bruised forehead, and the sides were closely shorn.
When she was in work mode, things like looks didn’t register, but she wasn’t in work mode now.
It was no wonder he was the town crush. Even banged up and bruised, he was incredibly handsome.
She still couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew him, but her mind must be playing tricks on her, because she couldn’t remember the last time she’d noticed how handsome any man was with any sort of interest.
And I shouldn’t be noticing it now.
She set his vest on the chair and glanced at the door, knowing she should leave, but her feet refused to move.
That invisible pull drew her gaze back to him.
His arms rested on top of the sheets, tattoos snaking out from beneath his hospital gown, over the backs of his hands, and around one of his middle fingers.
She reached for his hand. It was big, rough, and calloused. She wondered what he did for a living.
She was suddenly nervous, unsure what to say, but she wanted to say something to comfort him.
“Hi. It’s me again. I’m glad you made it.
You look a lot better than you did yesterday without all that blood and a piece of metal hanging out of your side.
I was worried you’d lose your spleen.” God, shut up.
If he can hear you, that’s not going to help.
She tried to be more positive. “You’ve got a lot of people out there pulling for you, so stay strong.
You’ve got this.” Now I sound like a freaking Hallmark card.
She took a deep breath and laughed at herself.
“I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I’m here.
I guess I needed to see you. I promised not to let you go, and you should know that you’ve been front and center in my mind this whole time.
You have all sorts of secret powers, don’t you, Mr. Wicked?
I hear you’re quite the playboy. It makes sense.
I mean, even banged up, you’re probably the best-looking guy in this hospital. ”
Ramble much?
She brushed her thumb over the tattooed skull on the back of his hand, recognizing it from the patches on his vest. “I brought your vest back. Is that why you’ve taken up residence in my head?
I bet it is. Well, Zander, now that it’s safely back in your possession, you can leave me be, right?
” A pang of something akin to longing tiptoed through her.
She held his hand a little tighter. “I guess this is it. Let me give you a piece of advice, Not-Zeke. You clean up real nice, but giving women the wrong name under any other circumstance is frowned upon, so how about using your special powers to heal that head of yours? Can you do that for me?”
Closing her eyes, she sent a silent prayer out to the universe that he’d pull through without complications or cognitive deficits.
Gently placing his hand back on the sheet, she took one last look at him and had the strange feeling that she shouldn’t leave, which meant she was losing her mind, so she said, “Don’t let me down, big guy. Take care of yourself.”
As she turned to leave, she pulled her keys out of her coat pocket and looked at her lucky key ring.
She’d had the worn brass circular charm with a number four stamped into it since the day she decided to turn her life around.
Seeing it had helped her stay strong when she’d needed it most. She glanced back at Zander, and a little voice told her he needed that luck more than she did.
Her pulse quickened as she took the brass charm off the key ring and tucked it into the pocket of his vest, then hurried out the door.
SHAUNA PARKED IN front of the two-bedroom cottage she and Brian rented.
It was an older home with tiny rooms, no yard to speak of, warped front steps, and a rotting deck, but it was clean and safe inside, and they liked their landlord, Claire.
She’d never forget how monumental it had felt to sign the lease on a place they could call home that wasn’t in a crappy area and felt more permanent than the shared houses they’d been renting.
The fact that they’d signed the lease on the fourth of the month two and a half years ago had seemed like a good omen.
But now Brian was drinking again.
She climbed out of her car with a heavy heart and made her way up to the door.
The curtains were closed, painfully reminiscent of the old days, when they’d hide away with their joints and booze, only coming out from under them long enough to work at whatever meaningless job they had at the time.
She opened the door, hoping he wasn’t spiraling back into that darkness.
There was a blanket on the couch, Brian’s sneakers discarded beside the coffee table. She glanced into the kitchen. A few dishes were in the sink, a bowl on the counter. Dishes never bothered her, but the beer bottle sticking out of the trash can made her stomach knot up.
Brian came out of the bathroom wearing jeans and a hoodie. His light brown hair was damp and finger-combed, his cheeks freshly shaved. “Hey,” he said cheerily. “I thought I heard you come in.”
“Hi. How was your night?” She studied him as he crossed the room to her, the warm smile she’d known from the time she was a child stretching across his face. That smile had comforted her in the worst of times and laughed with her in the best of them, which brought a rush of conflicting feelings.
“Good. Listen, Shauna, I’m sorry for yelling at you yesterday. You didn’t deserve that, and I don’t want you to worry. It’s a new year, and I’m starting it right. I’ll get control of this. I’m gonna get my shit together and go to a meeting today, and I’ll find another job.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” She wanted to believe him and hoped he meant it, but she knew it wasn’t that easy. “Do you want me to go with you to the meeting?”
“No. I’m sure you need to sleep.”
Despite her fatigue, she said, “I don’t mind. I can sleep later.”
“No. I’ve got this,” he assured her.
“Okay.” Once again, she wanted to believe him, but addiction could turn the most reliable person into a liar. “Did you sleep on the couch last night?”
“Yeah, for a bit.” He snagged the blanket off the couch and began folding it. “I got in pretty late.”
“Did you go to John’s?” she asked carefully. The flash of defensiveness in his eyes cut her to her core.
“Yes, I did, but I meant what I said. That was it for me. I’m done. I won’t let you down again. Anchors forever, right? I go down, you go down, and I love you too much to do that to you.”
Still waters or reckless tides, anchors forever, side by side.
They were barely out of high school and high as kites sitting on some stranger’s boat that they’d snuck onto in a Jersey Shore marina when they’d made that promise to each other, but that didn’t undermine their vow.
Their love and loyalty to each other were unbreakable.
But she’d made the cardinal mistake for people in recovery.
She’d gotten too comfortable, had taken his sobriety for granted.
She knew better, and she could kick herself for missing the early signs that Brian was in trouble.
If she’d only paid more attention, maybe she could’ve kept him from picking up the bottle again.
“Brian, you know this isn’t about me. I’m here for you, and I’ll support you in every way, but whatever you do or don’t do has to be for you.”
“I know. It is for me, but I know I let you down, and this is tearing you up. I can see it in your eyes.”
“Addiction is a disease, not a character flaw,” she reminded him and herself. “What you see are my feelings toward this fucking unfair disease.”
“Yeah, well, we both know the disease and I are one and the same. I didn’t just let you down. I let myself down, but I’m not some dumb kid anymore. I made mistakes, and I’m not minimizing them. I know this is bad, and I take full responsibility. You do not need to worry.”
Exhausted, she could do little more than nod, because of course she’d worry. They might not be a couple anymore, but they’d always be joined at the hip, and she knew how promises could be made with confidence in times of clarity and just as quickly drowned in weaker moments.
“I need to sleep,” she said.
As she headed for her bedroom, she realized that for the first time since she’d started working at the firehouse, he hadn’t asked how her shift went.